


setting the pace

by afrocurl



Series: other office disasters [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Crack, Epistolary, M/M, Mpreg, X-Men First Class Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:03:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite what all the media would have you believe, heat week is not as it seems. It is not omegas demanding sex. </p><p>Nothing like that at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	setting the pace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Unforgotten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforgotten/gifts).



> This idea started out as a prompt from the [kink meme](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/8700.html?thread=19649788), but my brain went to the crazy place that was the world of [betas gone wild](http://archiveofourown.org/works/432906). It helps to have read that first, at least for some of it.
> 
> Please mind the tags. Seriously. Ship tags, especially.

William stared at his computer screen, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do I write this email, hon?” he asked Sebastian. His omega’s head came into view from behind the doorway of the kitchen.

“What email?” Sebastian asked.

“The one about heat week. You’re so much better at writing it than I am.”

“Give me five minutes to finish dinner and I’ll write it. You know how you get now,” Sebastian said. He could see a gleam in his omega’s eyes just before Sebastian’s frame went back into the kitchen, the sounds of steaks grilling in the oven matching with the hint of spraying oil from the sauteed spinach on the stove.

William didn’t want to admit that his omega was right, but he knew better. His mood was always worse before Heat Week--more ornery and stubborn than normal. Sebastian had put up with it each quarter, knowing full well that it was part of the process, though William knew it was too much pressure for his mate. He was worse than most alphas, his doctors had said. He was particularly hormonal for an alpha, and it meant he took Heat Week like a bolt of lightning after a week-long fog.

Despite what all the betas, and the media tried to say (fuckin’ alphaists pricks), omegas had, and always will, set the pace for Heat Week, but only after every alpha turned into an angry, snappish brute. The number of movies that _Lifetime_ played where some poor omega was slapped before Heat Week made William shudder; he may be cranky and he may be a worse alpha than most, but he would never harm his mate. Never.

William had hated the week before Heat Weeks, preferring to telecommute, just to avoid all of the other office alphas who were equally peevish, but not as demonstratively so. Not being forced to socialize with Emma, Scott or Hank was good enough for him, no matter what Sebastian tried to say (and no matter how hard Sebastian said William could fuck him later to be polite out of the alphas’ earshots).

“Dinner’s ready,” Sebastian called, walking William from his foul mood.

“Thank you, dear. It smells lovely from here.”

-

 **Erik:** What do you think that Stryker does with his _extra_ week off?  
 **Charles:** Honestly, I try not to think about it. I don’t like to image Stryker having sex at all, you know.  
 **Erik:** He’s not having sex this week, idiot.  
 **Charles:** I know that, but I still don’t want to imagine it. There are some things better left outside of my imagination.  
 **Erik:** You’re no fun.  
 **Charles:** Thank you. Now get back to your work. Emma looks like she wants to bite your head off.  
 **Erik:** Let her. She’s not the one that’ll be here all next week doing the work of fourteen.  
 **Charles:** We’ve said this before, Erik. We can’t blame biology.  
 **Erik:** I’d rather blame biology than Emma. She’s a witch this week. Maybe Stryker should offer up an extra week off for all the alphas. Just so we don’t have to deal with them.  
 **Charles:** I doubt he’d want to risk the dip in productivity.  
 **Erik:** Fuck him.  
 **Charles:** No, I don’t think you should. ;)

_chat log may 28, 2012_

-

“William, stop looking at the video footage. It’ll only make you more angry,” Sebastian said, attempting to keep his ire from his voice. William was still in a foul mood, even as the sun rose on Wednesday morning.

Alpha moods were not normally this bad as the week started, but Sebastian had already seen the footage to know what was adding to his mate’s mood.

Betas. The two office betas. Fucking against their shared desk.

It was enough to make him want to vomit, but Sebastian cooled his mood, knowing that he had to be the one to bring William out of it. That was his one job this week. Well, beyond potentially bringing another life into the world nine months later.

He looked over at William, then pushed the notebook screen down. “It’s not time to worry about them, dear. This is _our_ time.”

His mates eyes cleared slightly at the soft words. “If you say so,” William said.

“I say so. I know so.”

-

 **Charles:** So that last email...  
 **Erik:** They’re pissed. Or well, Stryker’s pissed.  
 **Charles:** Since when did you care if he was pissed.  
 **Erik:** I may have read something about alphas before Heat Week last night.  
 **Charles:** WHY?  
 **Erik:** Curiosity.  
 **Charles:** No more of that. We’ve got another three minutes to look productive before I want to try out sex against the copy machine.  
 **Erik:** I didn’t know you had that in you.  
 **Charles:** There’s so much more to me than you know. ;)

_chat log june 5, 2012_

-

He’d finally reached the breaking point. His attention so distracted by the footage in front of him.

“Forget it,” Sebastian said, undoing the knot of his silk robe. “I’ll make you forget it as soon as you move the computer and get out of those pants,” his mate added with a smile that curled around the edges.

The computer dropped ungracefully on the floor, thankfully without falling onto the screen. Shoving away at his own pyjama bottoms, William followed Sebastian’s request. It was all he could do this week.

-

 **Erik:** Do you ever wonder what it sounds like we’re they’re fucking?  
 **Charles:** Why are you obsessed with alphas and omegas so much this week?  
 **Erik:** Don’t know. But it might have to do with our little agreement this week.  
 **Charles:** I don’t know what you mean.  
 **Erik:** You will later.  
 **Charles:** Why do I think I’m about to be tied up against Stryker’s desk?  
 **Erik:** I’m not saying anything...

-

The feeling of being around William during Heat Week never failed to turn Sebastian on. He didn’t admit it often that the process of heat week seemed utterly backwards, but it didn’t matter when he saw his alpha moaning loudly, hips bucking up in a want that was as animalist as Sebastian could imagine.

He took another quick look at William’s face, eyes shut in something half pleasure and half pain before slowly straddling his hips against William’s.

The way his body warmed as William’s erection bobbed was enough to make Sebastian lose it. He wasn’t the one who had been moaning for days now. He wasn’t the one who had walked around the house aroused, yet cranky. But, he was the one to make William’s mood shift. To bring out the shy smiles that were meant only for Sebastian.

To that end, Sebastian pushed his hips down, seating himself around William’s cock.

The sound of pleasure from William was just as Sebastian remembered. It rang in his ears for hours as they pushed and pulled at each other. Giving himself to his partner’s need: it was the best Sebastian could do for a week. Even if it took four days for William to reach his peak.

-

 **Charles:** They all look so happy.  
 **Erik:** Because they haven’t had to work all week and they got fucked.  
 **Charles:** Didn’t we do the same thing?  
 **Erik:** It was different. We were still here.  
 **Charles:** Check your email.  
 **Erik:** Why should I bother with it?  
 **Charles:** Just do it.  
 **Erik:** ...  
 **Charles:** We’ll talk later. I think Emma’s found out we eat her chocolate.

_chat log june 8, 2012_

**Author's Note:**

> The fact that I am not responsible for creating that ship tag scares me. Does it scare anyone else?


End file.
